


Cardiac

by PaddyChan



Series: Heartbeat [7]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Also Xandar, And the Halori (again; sorry for stealing), I had to split because this is just way too long, I just can't come up with any more Heart-Titles, M/M, Peter just doesn't get what all the fuss is about, Return of the filthy Smut in Part 2 (why am I spoiling this?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-11-23 03:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20885609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaddyChan/pseuds/PaddyChan
Summary: Peter actually succeeds with one of these risky, twelve percent made up plans of his.He just doesn't get why everyone freaks about the outcome so much. After all, it's just a purple stone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Staubengel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Staubengel/gifts).

> Well... Here we go again.  
It's 2:30 am and my eyes are hurting but I just need to get this posted.
> 
> I recently re-watched GotG, got back into the ship, re-read Staubengel's awesome fic Stuck With You and then, this just... happened.  
In a way, it's inspired by the first GotG-movie, Staubengel's fic (which is why I gifted this to her; also I use her Halori all the time because my brain is too dumb to come up with an Alien species of my own) and Infinity War/ Endgame.  
So yeah... I hope you'll have fun ~

„Ooo-oh, child. Things are gonna get easier… Ooh child, things are gonna get brighter…”

And oh boy, did he hope they would. Shit had been going down during the last few hours. Ronan had been about to get Peter back home, after they’d spent two days together. They hadn’t seen each other in over a month; Ronan had basically been accusing non-stop. Xandar -or rather their leader; some dude named Nova Prime Peter had never heard of before- had made some kind of peace agreement with the Halori. Which of course Hala didn’t agree with at all, forcing Ronan to accuse Xandar of breaking their treaty with the Kree which was one step away from openly declaring war. 

Peter had understood, of course. Ronan had one hell of a responsible position and he took it very (very, _very_) seriously. However; during the last few days the situation had seemed to have calmed a little and the Dark Aster had made a short visit to Terra once more to pick up her most frequent visitor. Peter had stayed in Ronan’s rooms all the time, as the Aster was fully staffed due to the tense political situation and aside from Korath, Lurian and his sister -who had both acclimated really well, Ronan was just too proud to admit that- and two other dudes no one even knew of his existence. But he had seen Ronan again and that was totally worth the hide.

And well, it had been going great and all (he had even brought along a bag of good coffee, like, the expensive kind) but then the communicators had caught an encrypted message that had been sent from a Xandarian ship, claiming they had found the location of “The Orb”. And whatever that Orb was, it had to be some huge fucking deal because the Dark Aster had immediately switched plans and made way to some planet named Morag in an attempt to catch the Xanadarians before they got that Orb-thingy. 

Ronan had ordered Peter to stay inside (because that had worked so fucking flawlessly the last times) and all the Terran could do now was wait -and watch the large screens Ronan had had installed since the last time shit had gone down, so Peter could actually see what happened outside. At least partly. Along with listening to the main communication line that as used by Ronan to command his forces.

“Keep them off the surface! They must not get hold of the Orb under any circumstances!” The Accuser’s deep voice didn’t leave any room for arguments, as he continued: “Prepare for Initiative Sacrifice to keep all Xandarian ships from getting to Morag’s surface!” Peter swallowed. Holy hell, Ronan was willing to have his pilots kill themselves Kamikaze-style to stop them. Whatever there was on Morag, whatever there was about this Orb, it was serious.

On the screens he could see three large foreign spacecrafts, probably Xandarian. The Dark Aster was on her own for the time being; all other Kree battleships were out of range for this fight, even though the Black Blood would arrive soon. Ronan’s commands were calm and collected and Peter could feel the Aster shaking slightly as something detonated somewhere.

Peter quickly re-arranged the screens; one of the Aster’s wings had been shot at. They had obviously arrived in the last moment; he could already see the planet’s surface on another screen -and a Sakaaran pilot who just slammed into a Xandarian pod that had nearly made it to the ground, forcing both of them to explode in flames. There was some kind of huge ass building the pod had been trying to get to.

It was quite obvious Ronan was forced to act defensively; he was under attack from two Xandarian ships while the third one attempted to get its people down to the ground -which Ronan prevented with everything he had in his arsenal. However; he had to play on time, had to wait for the Black Blood to arrive for backup, this was a battle he couldn’t win right now. But if the other Kree-Ship wouldn’t make it in time… Peter’s eyes widened as for a split second his imagination prodded him with a picture of Ronan getting into one of his close-rage fighters, steering it right into one of the Xandarian ships. He would sacrifice everything to stop them from getting that Orb… even himself.

Peter’s hands balled into fists as he starred at the scenery. He wouldn’t let him! Out of all the things Peter was willing to sacrifice, Ronan was the one he would never allow to. And that meant he had to get his sorry ass moving -and his sex-addicted brain.

There had to be some way to be useful to Ronan right now, some way to turn the tides… he just had to come up with it. Xandar and Hala didn’t have much hassle with each other before the first one had assigned with the Halori for whatever reason. The encrypted message had been sent to an Halori outpost that normally was completely unfrequented -except for now, since the Aster had crossed it on her way to Terra. The Halori had been meant to get the signal and react to it and not- Peter’s eyes brightened. Now, wasn’t that some stupid, risky plan Ronan would have his ass for, if he made it out alive.

He went to the desk, opening another screen and typed in an unbelievingly easy combination of numbers -a combination he would never fail to remember. 11051989. The day his mother had died.

Soundlessly, a piece of wall next to the wardrobe slid aside, revealing a small pathway. He hurried as it would close again after six seconds, only opening again after at least an hour had passed. He quickly made his way down the stairs and couldn’t help but smile happily once he had reached his destination. “Hello, sweetie”, he whispered.

In front of him was a small ship. It had originally belonged to the Halori-craft that had tried to invade Holaqua. He had liked the sleek, slender deign, built for speed instead of bulk but had already forgotten having mentioned it to Ronan -until the Accuser had brought him down here when they had met for the first time after the whole mess back then. “You have won that battle”, he had stated. “This is your earned spoil of war. I have had it adapted to our standards, however; the design remains. I hope it fits your expectations.”

Peter had just stared at him. Ronan had gifted him a spaceship… and not just any but the one that had belonged to the enemy, especially re-crafted for him. That was the fucking greatest thing that had happened so far! “Do you want a blow-job before or after you show me how to fly?”, he had asked and Ronan’s deep chuckle had told him he expected both.

Peter had named the ship Milano, after the place in Italy his mother had always dreamed of visiting. Now, he carefully got inside the cockpit, before caressing the steering devices. “Hey there, darling. How about we do something incredibly stupid?”

Peter didn’t know whether it was safe to use communication since it would blow up his entire plan (and himself in his ship, probably) if the message was caught by any Xandarian. He decided to stay silent and hope none of Ronan’s people would shoot at him. And well, no Xandarian either.

The gate opened and the Milano left the safety of the Dark Aster’s protection. Peter quickly let her drop quite a lot, making it (hopefully) appear as though the ship had somehow managed to slip past the Dark Aster’s line of fire, seemingly appearing from below the Krees’ battle ship in this huge mess of a fight. Peter steered the ship straight behind the Xanadarian defence line, not even hesitating for a second. If he showed any sign of insecurity now, his cover would blow. He was being fired at, however; the attack missed, and Peter hoped it hadn’t been a serious attempt to take him down. Hopefully, someone had aimed at him to prove he was indeed an enemy and underline his pretence of being Halori.

He adjusted his communication systems; whoever tried to contact him would get an error-message now, preventing him from having to answer.

The Milano made way to the building Peter had seen the Xandarian pods trying to get at and he couldn’t refrain from a yelling in triumph as the Xandarian ships covered him, preventing the Kree from reaching the Milano. They’d brought it! They assumed he was Halori, leaving him with the possibility to somehow protect that Orb until the Black Blood arrived! He wouldn’t waste that chance!

The Milano landed safely right in front of a huge ass entrance and Peter swallowed. He couldn’t afford hesitation now. He quickly grabbed a back full of useful supplies Ronan had prepared at the ship, before making his way inside. Somehow, the inside was pretty much intact except for some huge snake-shaped something with giant fucking teeth that wanted to eat him. Fortunately, it wasn’t immune to Peter’s blaster.

All the way down the giant hall was an equally giant portal that required a key or something to unlock a large system of locks and barriers. Peter didn’t have any of that, but he did have something even better.

He quickly grabbed a small, round device out of his bag, holding it in front of the place the key (or something like that) was supposed to go. The device started whirring quietly, but other than that remained rather unspectacular… until it suddenly stopped, and the large doors started to open. “Best spare key ever”, Peter whispered. He entered and looked around, however; the giant room was fucking empty -except for a single column of a humming energy field right in the middle. And inside was a single ball of a shining, dark metal that would easily fit into his hand. The walls were engraved with a text and symbols he couldn’t read.

The Terran blinked. All that fuss… about this little thing? Was this even what Ronan was looking for- or rather prevented Xandar from getting? But there was nothing else here (except for that snake-monster but that couldn’t be what everyone was after), so it had to be that… ball. The Orb. So, he had found it. Now, he had to get it out of here, somehow.

He quickly rummaged through his stuff again, before finally having an idea. Touching that forcefield would be bad, obviously, and not the kind of bad Peter liked. But the ball inside was out of metal, so maybe… He put the reactor-magnet next to the forcefield, activating the button on top of it and took a step back. And indeed, the metal was drawn first onto and then out of the forcefield, before it stuck to the magnet. Peter forced himself to suppress the cheer that wanted to get out as he shut off the reactor-magnet. 

He grabbed the ball, carefully weighting it in his palm. This was what both, Xandar and the Halori were after, then. Neither of them could have it! He would protect this thing with his life, whatever it was, would protect Ronan with his life! He would never let Ronan sacrifice himself, not even for his people; he loved him too much to ever let him die, even if the Kree would consider it a glory death. His fingers tightened around his metal shape as he felt the love for the Krees’ mighty Accuser rise in his chest, threaten to overwhelm him for a moment. 

Then, he forced himself to swallow his feelings and think again. There was a possibility the treasure wasn’t this metal ball but whatever it was that was inside… and if he managed to get it out, he would put the ball back together, insert it into the forcefield once more and get a few minutes out of it in case the Xandarians made it to this place before he had gotten whatever was inside to Ronan. 

He once more grabbed the Security-Breaker (or rather, the best spare key ever) and indeed, it started working and the metal ball whirled and turned, revealing layer after layer of protection. Peter swallowed, fearing he had made a mistake by destroying whatever this thing was but finally, the noise stopped. He lifted the two halves that had protected a single, violet shining gem, roughly the size of his thump-nail. He could feel something radiating off of it but was unable to name it. But he didn’t have any more time to waste, he had to get out of here! Right now, the only way to protect Ronan was to get back with this, to make sure he wouldn’t kill himself to stop his opponents if he saw no other way. 

Suddenly, he heard harsh voices closing in and his eyes widened. That weren’t Kree! Shit, was he too late? He knew he should have been faster! 

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” His voice carried all the way across the hall. “All dat work for nothing?!”

He could hear blasters being unholstered. “You are no Halori.” The voice was cold and finally, Peter turned around, facing three people who looked strangely Terran -except for one of them who looked like he had fallen asleep on his Hawaii trip and gotten the worst sunburn ever.

“Of couwse, I’m not”, he huffed. “They owdered me to get me ass here and break de security system, giving me one of their ships becauwse seriously man, mine’s not even half de speed. Was suppowsed to get in here and get dat Owb for them -and beliewe me, I’d lowe to; the paycheck was ower the roof, man. But guess what? Someone else was fuckin’ faster!”

He kicked the Orb’s loosely connected halves into their direction, since he really didn’t want to get down to pick them up in front of three guns aimed at him.

The three Xandarians obviously didn’t know what to think of that, whether to believe him or shoot him on the spot (and maybe angering their Halori companions with that). Then, one of them picked up the metal ball. “It’s empty”, he declared, making Peter roll his eyes. “No shit. Ya think I still gewd part of de paycheck?”

Finally, the three dudes seemed to gather their thoughts. “Hands up! Fugoto! Search him!” He aimed his blaster at the Terran. “One wrong move and you’re dead”, he threatened, making Peter roll his eyes. “Chill, man! I didn’t gewt meself hired t’ be shot now.” He raised his hands as one of the Xandarians searched his jacket, commanding “Off with that!”. Peter obeyed and quickly had his jacket and shirt cast aside. The Xandarian soon had searched the pockets in his pants, as well. “Off!”, he ordered but before Peter was able to obey, a bunch of blasters were shot simultaneously.

All three Xandarians dropped dead immediately, leaving Peter standing half-naked with his hands in the air. He quickly turned around and nearly a dozen Kree closed in, three of them obviously had range-blasters. Immediately, he was being aimed at again, however; Ronan’s harsh command quickly got the blasters lowered. “If you _dare_ shooting at him, I will rip you apart!”

Peter breathed out in relief. “God, I’ve n’ver been so happy t’see you!”

He didn’t recognise any other of the eleven Kree but one of them noticed the opened ball. “They have the Orb”, he declared darkly, making Peter shake his head as he couldn’t suppress a grin. “Na, they don’t. Dey just really, really wanted to!”

Immediately, Ronan’s purple eyes were on his lover again. “What have you done this time”, he demanded, and Peter actually giggled. He was aware the Kree -other than Ronan, who was used to his lover’s moods by now- were watching him with a raising level of suspicion and anger. Who was this strange man? Obviously, Master Ronan knew him quite well. Was he a secret subordinate? A spy, maybe?

“They could’ve searched my stuff all day, b’cause…” Peter brought his hand to his mouth, opening it and lifting his tongue. He carefully grabbed something he had obviously been hiding underneath and showed it to them. Three Kree actually took a step back (what the fuck was wrong with them this time?). Between his thump and forefinger, the small gem pulsated in a violet light and he had to grin once more. “… because it wasn’t in any of that!” 

He polished the stone on his pants, cleaning it of salvia, before offering it to Ronan. “This was what they were after, but I hadn’t yet made it outside again before these dudes arrived here. I’m just glad I didn’t have to swallow it; would’ve been shitty to get it out again.” Bad pun intended. “Anyway, what even is this thing? All that fuss over a shiny rock. I mean-” “Peter.” He looked up, right into Ronan’s purple eyes. “Put down the stone. _Now!_” 

The Terran blinked. “I don’t even know what all of this is about”, he sighed, but went down to put the stone on the ground as Ronan had told him to.

He heard a blaster going off and jumped back instinctively, noticing a second later that he wasn’t dead, even though the shot had been aimed at him. “What the hell, man, I just-” His mouth opened uselessly as he noticed the violet glowing field in front of him. It looked like a piece of unbelievingly thin glass, cut into a thousand shimmering facets. The blaster’s energy was buzzing on the outside, having been caught off by the glimmering surface, before it simply… vanished. Peter blinked when just a moment later the field that had protected him disappeared as well.

It was Ronan who broke the silence. His lips pulled back, revealing snarling black teeth and he grabbed the shooter’s throat, throwing him onto the floor like a ragdoll. The grip on his Warhammer tightened and with another snarl and a speed that shouldn’t be possible, he crushed the other Kree’s skull, sending blood and splinters of bone flying. For good measure, the Warhammer came down again, this time crushing into the Kree’s chest, leaving nothing but a black pulp. The feet were still intact, the only thing recognisable. Ronan straightened again, looking down ruthlessly at the remains of what had once been the Black Blood’s First Commander.

“I think I have to throw up”, Peter heaved, turning aside as to not face the puddle in front of him. He leaned against a wall, gagging some more and forced himself to not think about what he’d just seen. He swallowed a mouthful of bile and coughed. “Peter.” Ronan’s voice was soft -by Terran standards it would have been nothing but a harsh order, however; Peter knew better by now. This wasn’t the way Ronan talked to his subordinates and he could only imagine what it meant for him to speak to him in that manner in front of any of his people (Korath aside; metal-head had a special status in that regard). The Terran looked up, forcefully refraining from looking at the battered pulp next to the Accuser. “Put the stone back into the Orb. Don’t let it touch anything but. _Nothing_, not even the floor.” 

Peter nodded wordlessly, picking up the two halves and carefully inserting the glowing gem inside one of them again. He tried to put the two pieces together again, but they didn’t close. “I messed up, didn’t I?”, he asked, equally confused and crestfallen. He shouldn’t have opened the ball, he should have waited for Ronan to arrive… but if he had, the Xandarians would have gotten it!

“We will return to the Dark Aster”, Ronan commanded, before turning to the ten remaining Kree who had watched the whole mess. Three of them were sub-commanders serving directly under him on the Dark Aster, two were second in command on the Black Blood -well, one of them was First now, since the Black Blood’s captain was dead on the ground. Four were Precise-Snipers who had taken out the Xandarians and one was the medical wing’s leader. The Accuser himself had ordered him along.

“If you dare speak of this to anyone, even the Emperor, I will accuse you of treason against the Empire”, Ronan declared, making Peter throw his hands in the air- quite awkwardly, as he still held the ball in one. “I don’t even know what you just forbade these dudes to speak of, because I have no idea what’s going on! I didn’t even get to put my clothes back on!” Peter was seriously starting to get a little desperate -and maybe the slightest amount pissed. Whatever was going on here, it obviously was a huge fucking deal. Why the fuck did everyone seem to know what the fucking deal was -except for him?

“Put back on your clothes, we will wait for you. You will return with the Milano; we will gather in our room.” Even though the whole situation was starting to get to him, Peter couldn’t help the fluttering feeling in his chest. Our room… not Ronan’s. Theirs.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Peter had flown the Milano back into her place, secured the ship, made it up the stairs and opened the secret door, Ronan and his subordinates had already arrived. They were waiting for him, obviously. 

“Where is the Orb?”, Ronan asked, and Peter grabbed into his jacket to get the two halves out of the pocket. He carefully set them on Ronan’s desk. When he was done, he grabbed the water bottle on the counter and gulped it halfway down. “Will you finally tell me what that thing is?”, he then asked. “Everyone’s freaking out about it and I don’t even have the slightest idea, why.” He sighed, looking at the Accuser out of these sad green eyes Ronan hated in way. That gaze always told of his lover’s weakness, the fact he was as unfitting for a Kree Warlord as one could get. And while he had accepted Peter as such, that didn’t mean any other Kree ever would. However; they had other occurrences to discuss right now. 

“And… uhm…” The Terran hesitated for a second, before going on. “I’m Peter, by the way”, he then told the others. “I mean you probably knew already but I didn’t want to be rude, so-” Shut up”, Ronan commanded, making him stop. However; everyone else was very aware talking unbidden to the Accuser would mean being killed for daring to. Whoever this strange man was, he was no Kree. Neither Xandarian, which his skin colour might indicate. And his relationship to the Great Accuser was just as irritating. Master Ronan was supreme, the ultimate leader of their battle forces, one of the most powerful Kree -even more so, considering the last Emperor had died unexpectedly and his son was cycles too young to do anything but sign the documents the supreme leaders of military, industry, politics and science prepared. To be factual, it was these four -Ronan the Accuser, Maganot Harazock, Gabor the Burning and Kamuku Metalfist- who basically commanded the Empire at this point. Until he was older -at least of age- the son of Emperor The Shining would basically do nothing but sign their decisions.

Which lead back to the original question: Who was this man? He had dared to talk to the mighty Accuser in the most insulting manner, making him peasant; yet Master Ronan had punished Vehenor severely once he had acted out on that, attempting to punish the man as to save Master Ronan the hassle.

The Great Accuser had no life-sharer; a fact most highborn families wished to put to an end by offering their daughters and strengthen their position -as well as Master Ronan’s, who was without heir. And while it wasn’t uncommon -in fact quite normal at least for highborn- to entertain lovers of the same gender (otherwise the outcome might lead to unwished and shameful offspring) they would be slaughtered for being anything but the most obedient entertainments.

“They’re thinking so hard, I can smell their brains smoke”, Peter whispered, watching the ten sorry dudes.

“That explains why I never smell yours.”

Peter blinked. “Did you just… make a joke on my costs? And even a good one! I’m starting to rub off on you!” He couldn’t supress a giggle, before falling silent again. For a moment, Ronan watched him quietly. Peter was weak, disgustingly so, couldn’t keep his mouth shut, unable to follow even the simplest of orders, honourless in the ways he went to battle, hailing from a species so very underdeveloped they wouldn’t run on Hala’s metaphorical radar for a dozen generation at least (if they ever would). However, there was so much else about him, all the things he had never deemed necessary, even misfitting in a life-sharer. In his rank, that position was supposed to be covered with an obedient female that would give birth to a strong heir -and nothing but. Nothing else as required; most even inapt.

And yet… there was no one else in this galaxy who knew him like Peter did, no one else who dared to speak up to him, attempt (and fail) to make him laugh with his twisted sense of humour, scream his name as Ronan pounded into him… or risk his life for a species that wasn’t even his own by flying straight behind Xandar’s defence lines in a Halori spacecraft. And never even once, Peter had asked him to inform anyone of this, had never attempted to climb any rank. He clearly remembered one occasion when his Terran had blinked at him as the matter had come up. “I love _you_”, he had said, as if Ronan had angered him somehow. “Not your rank or your strength, or anything. Just you, Ronan. And the Accuser is a part of that. The whole _you_, you know? It’s awesome you can order your minions to blow up planets, but I would love you jut as much if you’d do anything else.”

And the longer he had stayed with Peter in this strange, improper agreement they had, the more he realised what losing all this would mean. And even though the Terran had never really talked about it, Ronan was very aware his lover would ask him to stop their affair once he had signed a life-sharing agreement with whatever noble daughter he saw fit. 

And thus, he just… hadn’t.

He was very aware of this; of the weakness, the dishonour this forced upon him, but it had always worked out for them -up until now.

“Before the universe itself appeared”, he finally started explaining, “Before the beginning of everything else, six singularities existed; the matrix of creation.” With a single gesture, a hologram came to life, engulfing the table they stood around in darkness. “Space.” A single shining orb appeared, the first light to break the nothingness. “Reality.” A second light coming to life. “Time, Soul, Mind.” Three more beacons of light, keeping the darkness as bay. “And Power.” When the last orb appeared, the illusion burst apart, forming orbits, galaxies, planets. Peter could only watch in amazement as out of seemingly nothing but chaos and destruction, a universe was formed. “When the universe came to exist, the singularities re-formed themselves. They had scattered all over the universe, but united, could create a new one… or wipe out all of creation. We call them Infinity Stones. And the one you prevented Xandar from seizing today, is the Power Stone.”

The hologram changed again, showing a single gem, surrounded by a purple light. It floated in the air for a moment, before a landscape appeared below. The hologram zoomed out and separated, one part still showing the floating gem, the other one a full-sized planet. Then, the gem suddenly stopped floating, dropping to the ground… and within seconds, the whole planet was seemingly ripped apart from the inside, torn to pieces, until nothing but barren rocks remained, drifting in the nothingness of space and in their midst, a single purple gem glowed. Then, the picture faded.

Peter blinked. Twice. “I had that thing in my mouth.” A third blink. “I had that purple, murderous stone shoved under my fucking tongue! Roro!” Shit, he could feel a slight (or maybe not so slight… yeah, definitely more medium. But like… a _big_ medium) panic setting in. “I would’ve swallowed it down if they had tried to search my mouth, too! This is… I don’t even… Am I dying now? Shit, I’m not ready to die; I need to-” “Peter.” Green eyes way too big in his face, the Terran starred at Ronan. “Calm yourself. Breathe in.” Peter breathed in. “Breathe out.” Peter exhaled weakly; his slender figure was trembling slightly, however; instead of lessening, it got worse. Peter crouched down on the floor, clasping his knees with his arms. The trembling got worse. “I think I’m having a mental breakdown”, he admitted (no shit, Sherlock. No need to study psychology to figure that one out). His breaths turned irregular. He was going to die; he would be ripped apart, squished like an overripe banana! Without the adrenaline kicking his ass, imminent death was so much worse. 

Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped around him and Peter froze. It smelled like ashes and stone, of power and safety. He wrapped his arms around Ronan, who had gotten down to one knee in front of him to be able to touch him. His blunt nails scratched uselessly over the impenetrable armour, as his grip tightened. He pressed his face into the armour on Ronan’s chest, whose other hand still held the hammer.

After what felt like forever but probably was no more than a few minutes, Peter felt himself calm down, soothed by the smell of smoke and ashes, the security of knowing nobody and nothing would get to him whenever he was protected like this. Ronan loosened his grip and got up. “Have you calmed?”

Peter nodded, still a bit miserable but at least no longer panicking. “Sorry you had to see that”, he apologised -both, to Ronan and the others.

Then, he finally managed to get up again. “I need a coffee”, he muttered, walking to the counterpart and filling up the water boiler he had brought from home. Then, he grabbed two large mugs out of the shelf above, before remembering they weren’t alone, so he balanced at his toes of be able to get out two more. Unfortunately, they didn’t have enough for all of them. A few silent minutes later, the coffee was done, and Peter filled the mugs, offering one to Ronan, who took it from him without a word. Then, he put two more on the table before grabbing the last one and adding two spoonsful of sugar.

When he sat down at the table, the two mugs were still untouched. “Coffee is the single thing Terra has ever done right, if you ask Ronan”, he told them, taking a sip, before sighing deeply. He was feeling better; caffeine always calmed his nerves. Yes, he knew that wasn’t what the magical bean was supposed to do at all, but he had long since stopped worrying about that.

“So”, he finally asked, taking another sip. “Any idea why purply killer-stone didn’t turn me into dust?” 

Ronan had already finished his first cup of coffee, setting it aside and grabbing another one on the table. “Every empire strives to possess one of the stones, but only two have ever been found. The Space Stone is kept at Asgard, protected by the Allfather of its Nine Realms. The other one is the Power Stone. It was used to wipe out entire civilisations, turn planets to ashes. After eons, a group of extraordinary beings was able to share its energy and use it to annihilate their enemies, but even they were destroyed. The gem got lost after that, and no one knew its location anymore… until today.”

Peter frowned, finishing his coffee. “What about these dudes of yours? Are they furniture or do they have an idea about this?”, he asked, setting aside his mug. “Cause I feel like we’re kinda stuck here.”

“Speak.” The command wasn’t Ronan’s but the Accuser’s. While he made sure to be gentle with his Terran (well, as gentle as a Kree Warlord could get), Peter was well aware he was the only one who was and probably ever would be allowed to be receive that kind of softness from the Kree.

“What civilisation does Master Peter hail from?”, one of them asked -Peter thought he was from the Black Blood but couldn’t be sure. His facial markings were similar to those of the dude who had tried to kill him. He groaned. “Dang, don’t ever say that again. I can deal with a lot, but that Master-bullshit is just way too much.”

“Which title would you prefer?”, another Kree asked -one of the snipers; Peter could tell because these three still carried their precision-blasters. He was kinda lanky, especially for a Kree. It was obvious to them, Master Ronan had some kind of relationship with this male and judging by what they had witnessed so far, it seemed to be an important one. They just could not terminate the likes of which one, since the Supreme Accuser hadn’t yet started life-sharing. Whoever the noble woman would be; her role was one of uttermost devotion to the Master. This red-haired man was behaving outrageously whenever he even opened his mouth, even _touching_ the Supreme Leader but Master Ronan had made very clear restricting this man would not be tolerated. Whoever he was, his rank was way prior to their own; however, without a title there was no way to address him as Master Ronan had ordered.

Meanwhile, Ronan’s not-so-super-secret-anymore lover stared at the bunch of blank blue faces. “I’m just Peter, duh”, he finally said. “No title or something, that’s just super awkward. And I’m from Terra, by the way. But that’s not what made me survive super-stone; Terra is kinda backwards compared to you.”

The first Kree answered again. “Then, we will leave that aspect out of consideration, Peter-Vanthr.”

The Terran blinked. “What now?”

It was Ronan, who answered. “Vanthr is a form of address used towards whoever is of a higher rank as to not insult them hence to not knowing their complete title.”

“You seriously do have titles without having titles”, Peter groaned. “All right then, just call me that if it makes you more comfortable. But I kinda feel like we’re off topic here.”

“The Power Stone was used on multiple occasions”, Ronan stated, setting his second empty coffee mug aside. “Whoever was stupid enough to attempt to force its power directly was annihilated. There always has been a channel.”

Peter blinked. “I never wanted to use it.”

Eleven heads turned towards him and he groaned. “I didn’t even know what this stone was, how was I supposed to know what to do with it?”, he asked. Being the only human in space had the annoying side effect to make him feel like a dumb piece of shit. “All I knew was that I had to protect it from these Xanadarians… because I knew if they got it-” Ronan would have risked his life to get it back. But he couldn’t say that without triggering the Warlord’s pride. 

Another one of the ten dudes spoke up; none of the snipers. This one had some kind of bag with lots of smaller bags around his hip. “Maybe it was because you had no intention of using the Power-Stone, Peter-Vanthr, that kept it from reacting.” That would be the easiest explanation. However, the Terran frowned. “But it did react”, he argued. “When I was being shot at, it obviously did _something_ or _I_ would’ve been the piece of pulp.”

“Did you intend using it?” It was Ronan who asked, and Peter shook his head. “I didn’t know it was some kind of killer-shiny that would blow up the planet. I never wanted to destroy anything, I just wanted to-” he suddenly stopped, staring at Ronan with these way too big eyes of his.

“You just wanted what?”, the Accuser growled. Why did it have to be _his_ lover who was partially braindead at times? However; Peter was silent for a few more minutes, before repeating: “I never wanted to destroy anything. I just wanted to protect you!”

Ronan’s lips pulled back to reveal a snarl. How dare he? How _dare_ Peter implying he needed protection! And even worse, doing so in front of his subordinates! There was absolutely no way the Accuser would be able to let an insult that grave go, especially when he had already disregarded so many minor ones before, having accepted them by now as part of his lover’s nature. But this… his grip around the Warhammer’s handle tightened.

However, before he had chance to come up with a punishment that _wouldn‘t_ right out kill Peter, the Terran had already turned around and run the few steps to where the Orb’s halves had been set on the table. “No!”, he shouted, but Peter already had gripped the Power-Stone, taking it out of its vessel -and showed it to him on his outstretched palm; perfectly fine.

“Can’t you see?”, he asked but continued without giving anyone a chance to answer. “Everyone who had the stone died, but they all used it for destruction! I never wanted to destroy anything; all I wanted was to protect the stone because that meant to protect you, too! And then that one dude tried to shoot my face off and it saved my sorry ass!”

The silence after that was deafening and for the very first time ever, Ronan looked actually baffled. Some minutes ticked past way too slowly, before the Accuser finally said: “Infinity Stones don’t have a consciousness of their own.”

Peter blinked. “How do you know?”, he then simply argued. “Did anyone ever ask?” He shifted his attention to the violet gem resting in his palm. “Can you do that?”, he then asked. “Can you protect us? I know you already did once but that blue sceptic over there is sometimes- _Whoa!_”

He jumped back when a thousand purple facets sprang into life around him, shielding his entire body -and before he was able to react, he was being pulled forward, straight onto Ronan. With a very unmanly yelp, Peter crushed at the Accuser’s chest; his armour certainly didn’t make the impact too pleasing. However; all he could do was gasp once he realised the purple forcefield was surrounding them, glittering in a million different shades, constantly changing their pattern. “What have you _done?_” Ronan’s voice sounded strangely… off, somehow, and Peter swallowed. “I don’t even have the slightest idea.” Then, a large grin nearly split his face in half as he raised his gaze to meet Ronan’s eyes. “I was right! This is awesome! C’mon, Roro! Say it! The Terran was right, for once!”

“This won’t stop me from smashing your head under my boot.”

“Aaawww”, Peter giggled. “I love you, too!” He really wanted to kiss Ronan right now but knew the other wouldn’t let him; not in front of so many eyes.

“Stop this nonsense.” While this definitely was an order, Peter could hear the exasperated, imperceptible undertone he had come to identify as loving. Nobody else would recognise this sliver of something that wasn’t softness, not even close, but still… Peter had to learn to identify such things from the very beginning.

But right now, something else was claiming his attention. Within the blink of an eye, the purple field surrounding them vanished from existence. Peter pouted. “And here I thought I was something special.” The gem in his palm warmed slightly and the Terran chuckled. “So… What are we gonna do now?”

Ronan turned around slightly, facing his subordinates. “Leave, now. If you ever speak of this to anyone, I will personally have you face the consequences of your treachery.”

Without even saying Goodbye (rude!) the ten Kree left Ronan’s rooms. As soon as the door had closed behind them, Peter’s back met the wall and his mouth was claimed by Ronan’s lips, his black tongue entering. The Terran couldn’t supress a moan, as Ronan pressed him tightly against the wall; his broad chest leaving him nowhere to run (not that he wanted).

The kiss turned harsher, nearly bruising and another moan was swallowed by the Kree’s lips, before he retreated, watching Peter’s breathless form. “You called me weak”, he then growled. “Needing protection… You dared dishonour me!” 

“I’d never say that”, Peter gasped, trying to catch his breath, not quite noticing the graveness of the situation. “I know you don’t need protection, but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to protect you, because I’d kill me if something happened to-” He didn’t quite get to finish the sentence because his mouth was once more violated by an angry Kree, who had no intention of allowing him to end his sentence. 

He heard the ripping of fabric and felt cool air on his chest. “That was my favourite shirt”, he mumbled against Ronan’s lips, however; the Accuser seemed unimpressed. Then, he pinched the Terran’s rosy nipples hard and Peter’s groan of pain was the Kree-equivalent of music in his ears. Blunt nails uselessly scratched over his armour and with another growl, he easily captured both of Peter’s wrists in one hand, pinning them above his head. 

“I am going to make you regret dishonouring me”, the Kree growled, ripping off the remains of Peter’s black shirt with a red print of AC/DC and a simplified drawing of thunder. He stepped even closer, his free hand lifting the lightness of the Terran’s weight before nailing him against the wall with his own body, leaving his legs dangling uselessly. Peter’s cry rang beautifully in his ears, as he maltreated the other nipple, pinching it sharply, before pulling it painfully far away from Peter’s chest. “God, please”, the Terran cried, making his lover growl again. “None of your so-called Gods will dare stand against me”, he snarled, shifting to the other nipple again, continuing his mistreatment until the small nub was red and hot and the first tear slipped down Peter’s cheek. He tried to rub against his lover, but Ronan didn’t let him touch…

And then, suddenly, all contact was gone, and Peter simply fell to the floor. Ronan watched him out of purple eyes, simply ordering: “Unclothe yourself.”

Without even the idea of arguing, Peter fumbled off his boots and jeans, nearly falling over when he didn’t get out of one leg at once. Then, he stripped off his boxers and when Ronan didn’t react, finally thought of removing his socks.

When he attempted to touch his lover, the Kree didn’t allow him to. Instead, he commanded: “Turn around. Get on your knees.” Again, Peter obeyed without even a moment’s hesitation; allowing Ronan to watch his bare backside, hiding the obvious erection.

“Prepare yourself”, he ordered and if he would have less composure, he might have showed his satisfaction when the Terran didn’t even consider misbehaving. Instead, his left hand travelled to his entrance. He was aware Peter didn’t get any lubricant but that was only just, considering his earlier behaviour. His lover gasped when one of his dry fingers started entering but when Ronan’s growled angrily behind him, he still forced it all the way in, groaning at the stretch and slight amount of pain. 

The Kree watched him open up the tight ring of muscle, his finger disappearing completely and when Peter started entering a second finger, walked around him and let his armour fall down next to him with a thud. Then, he opened his trousers, taking out his own cock already leaking self-lubricant. He allowed Peter’s eager hands to stroke it only once, slicking his fingers, before holding the tip right in front of that insufferable mouth. As soon as Peter had parted his lips, he grabbed his hair and fully shoved his erection into the Terran’s hot, awaiting throat without giving him time to adjust. Tears started to leak out of his green eyes, however; Ronan merely watched them roll down his cheeks. Then, he pulled back, allowing Peter to breathe again. 

“I will take you unprepared if you don’t continue.” It was a statement, spoken in the uttermost matter of course and the Terran’s whine made his erection bob once in his mouth, before he finally continued preparing himself, eased by the Kree’s lubricant.

It was hard, though. Ronan’s grip on his hair wasn’t exactly painful but entirely ungiving and his large cock was forced down his throat again and again, making it near impossible to prepare himself at the same time. Again and again, his fingers stopped moving and when he forced a third one in, the slight pain reminded him of his fault.

And then, Ronan forced himself all the way down his throat, pressing his nose into the hairless abdomen and he could feel as his throat was flooded by gushes of hot, creamy come. He loved the taste of Ronan’s essence and nearly mourned as he was unable to take it all; feeling it drip down his chin and mixing with fresh tears hailing from sheer overuse.

Finally, Ronan pulled back, his blue erection glistening with Peter’s salvia, not even close to being done for.

“Get on the bed”, the Accuser ordered, making Peter scramble to get up. Without even asking, he went on knees again. Only seconds later, Ronan grabbed his head again from behind, forcing him on all fours. When he released his grip, Peter obediently stayed on his arms and knees.

Only seconds later he was rewarded when Ronan entered him to the hilt in one swift move, making him cry out in surprise, pleasure and no small amount of pain. Ronan then stayed motionless, allowing him to loosen up.

He could feel himself clenching and unclenching around the girth penetrating him and breathed heavily, trying to soothe the protesting muscle. Then, he moaned in pleasure as Ronan caressed his hair and something akin to a mewl escaped him when the penetration suddenly stopped, however; before he was able to react, he was impaled again right after. This time, Ronan’s pace was harsh, and he pulled all the way out again, before penetrating his lover to the hilt in a punishing manner. 

Peter could feel his own neglected cock leak in need; the swollen head was pressed against his stomach, but there was nothing be could do about it since he needed both arms to keep his upper body from being fully pressed into the mattress.

When he felt his abused nipples being roughly pulled once more, he sobbed pathetically. “T-Too much”, he somehow got out, crying out when Ronan only pulled harder, twisting the hot, painfully pulsating flesh painfully to its limits. 

Then, Ronan stopped moving completely, stuffed to the root inside him. “Beg.”

In his state, it took the Terran a moment to comprehend his orders but as soon as he was somehow able to, he reacted. “Please move, I need you to- I can’t- please, touch me, I love you, I-” he cried out in pain as Ronan once more treated his nipples. He would have to give him a salve later to help the abused flesh heal faster. For now, he simply enjoyed Peter’s pathetic sobbing. 

Then, he grabbed the Terran’s thighs with both hands, before pulling nearly all the way out and rammed back in, making the bed under them shake. Satisfied for now, he aimed at his lover’s prostate, bringing him closer to his climax and finally forcing it upon him, enjoying his sobs of release, before emptying himself into that tight, obedient flesh. One of his palms reached out to hold the Peter’s stomach, as if to feel it being filled with the seed Peter loved to have inside so much.

When he pulled out, he watched his come leak out Peter’s used asshole. The muscle still twitched underneath his gaze.

Then, he turned Peter around; his stomach was splattered with come and he dragged two fingers through it, before holding them in front of Peter’s lips. “Clean up.” It was the last order and Peter met his eyes as he sucked his fingers in his mouth, cleaning them of his own essence. 

“Where is the stone?” Ronan’s question ended the postcoital haze and Peter let his fingers slip out of his mouth, but not without giving them one last lick.

“Dunno. Check under the table, I might have lost it there.”

Ronan was silent for a moment. “You… _lost_ the Power Stone?”

Peter groaned. “I was kinda occupied otherwise. Besides, if it wanted to kill us all, it already would have done. We’ll get it tomorrow.”

Ronan growled, however, before he was able to snap at Peter about the fact that he had just lost an Infinity stone and now attempted to wait until tomorrow to search for it under the counter, the slow, even breaths told him his Terran had already fallen asleep.

Great. 

Now he would whine about having slept in his own come again once he woke up. 

Just like he did all the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are Love, comments are Life ~


End file.
